Damn these inspid females and their need to redeem our rakes with their magic vaginas! I’ve never understood why a supposedly worldly man would be so attracted to a wide-eyed Barbie Doll just because she “speaks her mind” and stomps her foot and claims to read Mary Wollstonecraft and calls herself a bluestocking and will do anything to save her profligate useless gambling-junkie brother, even if it means giving up her body for one night to a notorious rake who’s probably slept with half of the hookers in London.

I feel bad for our girl on the left, though. Oh, dearling, it’s not rakehood you have to save him from! It’s… um… how do I say this without hurting your feelings… you see, dear heart… sometimes, boys just happen to like… well, other boys and your man happens to be one of them. Aren’t there… like… a hundred other rakes in London you could reform? As for our girl on the right, is it just me or can you guys actually see her bosom heaving, like, right at this moment? And her torso seems freakishly short and seemingly… um… unattached to anything. Like she’s just a torso and her dress comes with fake legs. It’s creepy!

As you all may recall, last week I threw a little “blurb and title” contest based on this cover. The winner gets to choose any book she wants from Amazon (seriously, bitch, do not ask for a forty dollar coffee table book. I mean it!) and my generous butt will send it to her. If you didn’t get to enter the contest, you snooze you lose, buddy… but don’t worry there’ll be another one on the first of March (and February is the shortest month!). All the entries were funny and clever in their own way, but I chose the ones that frankly, tickled me so much, I peed my pants a little. I also promised to post the best three entries so that we may all vote on it (I’m democratic like that) and the entry that gets the most votes… well, wins. Okay, so here we go:

Richelle Mead
Title: RETURN OF THE DISEMBODIED FLOATING HEART
Blurb: Alix Monroe has spent the last year on the run, desperate to escape her past and the bloody events that haunt her. When she gets a job at a tropical “massage parlor” and adopts a new identity as Kiki Lovejoy, it seems as though her problems are over–especially when she meets Jean-Armand, a client with a penchant for laps and generous tips. Wealthy and panty-dropping sexy, Jean-Armand offers Alix the love and security she never thought she’d have again.

But someone doesn’t want Alix to be happy. The Disembodied Floating Heart––the same Heart that killed her parents and fiance––is back. Back for blood. And it isn’t going to rest until it’s destroyed every shred of joy in Alix’s life. With death and danger literally hanging over their heads, Alix and Jean-Armand must look within their own hearts to have any chance of escaping with both their love and their lives…

[This next one is inspired by comment made by Meljean… Candy, does that mean you’d cut your book in half if you win?]

Candy Tan
Title: LACTATION AND THE LADYBOY
Blurb: Love In the Most Unexpected Places
When Dirk went on his sex tour of Thailand, he fully expected to have his mind (and other parts of his body) blown. What he didn’t expect was the utterly bewitching Orrada and the explosive passion they shared in the hot Bangkok nights. But even more explosive than the love they found was Dirk’s secret: his lactation fetish. Could he ever let Orrada know?

But Orrada has a big secret of her own up her sleeve. As Dirk begins unraveling her deepest mysteries, he begins to realize that realizing his dreams may be even more difficult than he’d imagined. Maybe even impossible. Will love conquer all this time–even biology? Find out in… Lactation and the Ladyboy.

[Okay, this next one shouldn’t even count. It’s so bloody true in its parody that I’m almost sure there’s a book floating out there with this plot. Nevertheless, it tickled me just right.]

Kathleen
Title: This Asshole Just Fainted on Me
Blurb:

An innocent beauty-
Fear had been Wilhemina’s constant companion since a childhood doctor had diagnosed her double-virginity. Forced to endure a life with two hymens, this still-innocent widow longed for a home, a family, and children of her own. Instead she was forced to endure while her adult step-children schemed to take away the orchid farm left to her by her much older, impotent, filthy rich husband.

A forceful alpha male-
Storm had never let fear stop him before. A former Navy Seal turned Army Ranger, he laughed in the face of danger…even when he spent 3 years with his own harem trying to deal with his mommy issues. Or when he developed a drinking and gambling problem that he assumes can be fixed easily by a fiesty woman…give or take ten pages. But now his greatest enemy is after the secret he holds, and he’s forced to flee to an out-of-the-way Orchid Farm.

Love brings them together-
Fate brought them together amongst flowers and twinkly lights. Was he the one to rid her of her virginity and give her an orgasm at the same time? Was she the one to heal his heart and banish the childhood spectre of his mother? Only time can tell as the heat and labor of orchid farming take their toil on her hero in “This Asshole Just Fainted On Me.”

… so there you have it. Your vote decides which of these bitches will win this month’s contest and maybe even named February’s Snark Queen. Choose wisely, for none of us can ever truly know the power we wield on this here internets. I will announce the winner on Tuesday morning.

Good luck, whores!

…freak my shit out. Seriously, ever since I saw that Japanese movie Ringu (and no, I don’t acknowledge the American remakes because I’m a snob), I’ve been staying the hell away from pale chicks with long black hair because I’m totally paranoid they’ll turn on me and scratch my eyes out with their long, knife-like talons. I know that might make me sound small-minded and I’m probably depriving myself of their friendship, but I’m sorry. It’s just how I feel. They’re my issues and yes, I’m the one who has to work through them.

Unfortunately, I hang out at the Literature Department on campus where these chicks hang out together in packs, sucking on their cancer sticks and insecurely scratching bigger holes in their fishnet stockings. But this girl makes those chicks look like golden-tanned beach bunnies. Her paleness makes her look almost… translucent. If I have to guess what her deal is, I’ll have to say… Vampire. Duh. What, you think you can get this pale sitting in your parents’ basement playing World of Warcraft? Dream the fuck on, nerd girl!

Anyway, I’m totally freaked out by this cover because you know this bitch will turn around and SHE WON’T HAVE A FACE. Or worse yet, someone (probably her) has scraped off the skin and flesh from her face and what we’ll see is her creepy, grinning skeleton.

Still, I like the stark simplicity of it. It conveys adequate creepiness and nothing detracts from this freaked out paranoid feeling you get from looking at this thing, believing the bitch is gonna turn around and WON’T HAVE A FACE. Or you know, maybe that’s just me. And I’ve been watching way too many Japanese horror movies.

Now here’s a cover I actually like. It’s sweet, simple, and there isn’t a damn baby or cowboy on it. The guy doesn’t even look like a sheriff, a Navy SEAL, a firefighter, or anything that would require a uniform sported by the Village People on stage. The girl is very pretty and looks vaguely Asian. I covet her pretty, pretty hair. I covet her sexy blouse. Sure, she looks like she’s secretly thinking, “Damn it, is this thing over yet ’cause I’m really jonesing for a Jamba Juice right now and this fucker has a heavy-ass head.” Everything’s all nice and hazy and there’s orchids and shit in the background and it makes you kind of want to say “awww” if your heart isn’t cold, dead, and shriveled.

What bothers me about this cover is the stupid title. I know I’m always harping about Harlequin titles, but this one… “Meant-to-be Mother”. What does that even mean? Does that mean that’s her one and only destiny? To be the broodmare for the douchebag whose head is on her lap? Like maybe she’ll forget all about med school and shit ’cause she’s met Mr. Perfect and she’s gonna go pop out babies for him? How romantic is that? I don’t understand how getting pregnant and stuff can be equated with romance. Stupid title!

Oh, what am I moaning about? I’m not very good at coming up with titles, either. In fact, my buddy Shuzluva had to talk me out of calling a short story I wrote “Hot Swimming Pool of Love”. I don’t know what I’d do without that bitch. Oh, hey… let’s play a game. Take a look at this cover and see if you can come up with a better title and BLURB based on the couple looking happily at each other. Maybe I’ll even put up a prize for the best one or something. Who knows.

Thanks to Amber for the cover.

P.S. I have decided I will put up a prize for the one to come up with a better title. Nay, not just a title. IF YOU CAN COME UP WITH A TITLE AND A BLURB (think back of the book stuff) to describe what’s going on here and it tickles me to pieces, I will award you WITH A BOOK OF YOUR CHOICE. ANY BOOK (no, not textbooks. I’m broke). I will send it to your house via Amazon. I’m serious. Now get going, my little daisies. Let’s do this!

P.P.S. DON’T forget the BLURB. I’ll post the best three on Sunday and we’ll vote on it, Ok?

P.P.P.S. Man, I gotta get better at setting up the rules and shit.

Hmmm… you know I’ve always wondered: since the Navy SEALS are too busy running around chasing unmarried mothers and virgin librarians, who the hell is defending our country from the Canadians?

Anyway, is it me or does this dude look a little short? There’s something about the angle upon which the picture was taken that makes him look kind of short. Maybe it’s his torso. It looks compact and… you know, he’s what one would call a “barrel-chested man,” I think. ‘Cause damn… look at those titties. I’m sorry, but that is at least a C-cup. If he were a chick in a horror movie, there would already be sprinklers going off over his head for no damn reason, soaking him and making the tank top cling to his bosom. And he’s already got the requisite white tank top for it! Hot! I am a huge fan of his arms, though. God, I love me a man with biceps like that. Even that tattoo is hot. Is that an eagle? At first I thought it was the bat logo and I got all excited.

Too bad he’s probably like… 5′8, at most. Can you just imagine this little dude strutting around with his big ole barrel-chest and four or five gold chains around his neck? Maybe it was the way the picture was cut off that we don’t get to see if he’s got legs that go for miles and miles. He just looks… squished.